


Karl

by wheel_pen



Series: Agent and Doctor [3]
Category: The Bourne Legacy (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy isn’t the only agent Rachel looks after. He’s just the most expressive. But Rachel tries to treat all her patients like people, even if they don’t always act like people themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karl

“Good morning, Karl,” Rachel said, as cheerfully as she could muster pre-coffee. Not that it really mattered; the large Viking-esque man merely sat on the table, sparing her a single glance but nothing more. “How’s it going?”

“Sprained left wrist. Sprained left knee. Seven centimeter laceration on left thigh. Various minor bruises and scrapes,” Karl reported. He didn’t even look at her.

“So, you’ve had better days, huh?” Rachel deduced. He said nothing, and she sighed. “Okay, knee first. Already got your pants off, very efficient.”

Karl flexed his knee when she directed, and she’d even gotten him to say ‘ow’—in a completely flat tone—when she touched a part that hurt, but that was the extent of his interaction. “Ooh, kinda nasty,” she observed anyway, looking at the cut he’d mentioned. “Did you trip playing croquet?” This question was not worthy of an answer, so he didn’t give one. “Well, you’ll need stitches. What say I sew a lightning bolt across it?” Again, nothing.

“Okay, take a load off,” she told him, turning around to grab a shot of anesthetic. When she looked back he hadn’t moved, though. “Yo, Thor, doctor’s orders, lay down.” This, he did. So it wasn’t that he was ignoring her or refusing to obey; she just had to use the right words, because he was spending _no_ effort on judging and translating everything she said.

“I could probably do this without any anesthetic at all, and you wouldn’t even flinch, would you, big guy?” Rachel mused as she stitched him up. He might as well be unconscious for all the response he was capable of. Which wasn’t his fault, really; that’s what he was _trained_ to do, to shut down when he returned to the Center, neutralizing the threat he would otherwise present to his handlers.

Of which she was one.

“Any other injuries of note, Karl?” she asked when she finished with the stitches.

“No.”

“Okay. You can get dressed and go,” Rachel allowed. “Nice to see you again, Karl, glad your leg healed up after last time.” He did not acknowledge her statement, but Rachel made it anyway; she was a physician, not a mechanic, and she didn’t want to fall into the rut of forgetting she dealt with _people_ , not machines. No matter how machine-like the people were sometimes.

“Wait a second, Karl,” she said suddenly, and he froze in the middle of putting his shirt on. Which was fine, because his ribs were exactly what she wanted to look at. Gently Rachel pressed at the flesh, examining the color under a light. “Karl, do you feel any pain in your side?” she asked.

“No.”

“Internal pain at all?”

“No.”

Something wasn’t right here. Rachel listened to his body with her stethoscope while he stood as still as a statue, as a tree in the deep woods. “Did you sustain a blow to the side here?” she wanted to know.

“Yes.”

“But you don’t feel any pain?” she insisted. “Not even a little? Don’t be such a tough guy, tell me.”

Karl declined to answer, no doubt feeling he’d made himself clear on this issue.

But Rachel knew there was more to it. She stood and scribbled a quick note in his file. “I’m taking you to the hospital wing,” she told him firmly. “I think you have internal bleeding.”

Karl turned his head to look at her, his ice-blue eyes zeroing in like a laser beam. “I have an appointment with Dr. Zhu next,” he stated. “This diversion seems unnecessary.”

“Listen, buster, _I’m_ the doctor, and _I’ll_ decide what’s unnecessary,” Rachel told him firmly. “Now go sit in that wheelchair by Jenny’s desk.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair,” Karl protested stonily.

“Yeah, and I don’t need to be squashed when you pass out from blood loss on the way to Internal Med,” Rachel countered. She opened the door to the outer office and pointed at the wheelchair. “Jenny, tell Internal Med I’m bringing Karl Lund over with possible internal bleeding. I’ll want him checked out right away.” She paused. “And call an orderly to push him. A really strong one. Why am I still pointing at this empty chair, Karl?”

“I don’t know,” Karl replied, and Rachel felt she detected a crumb of sarcasm in his tone.

“Sit. Now,” Rachel repeated, staring him down. Finally he sat, though not, Rachel felt, with complete grace. “Thank you, Karl. Off we go.”


End file.
